Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 731: The Throne Hall [Part-2]

The Throne Hall [Part-2]

Leon chuckled quietly.

"Ah. Of course."

Their footsteps continued along the corridor, echoing softly through the vast hallway.

Step after step, the quiet rhythm of their movement blended with the gentle hum of the palace itself.

Eventually—

They reached its end.

The corridor opened into a wide chamber where two enormous doors stood waiting.

For a moment, everyone slowed.

There stood two enormous doors.

Art filled the space where doors should be.

From stacked sheets of bright silver and rich gold came these massive doors. Carved into their face: snakes twisting through blooming lotuses, never still. At the middle sat the seven-headed naga - Nagarath’s mark - pressed deeply into metal. Each snakehead wore a ring of small stones, catching any hint of glow nearby.

Twisting dragon tails formed the shape of even the handles.

Twice as wide as they were tall, those doors loomed above everyone. Almost triple a person’s reach upward, their frame filled the opening completely.

Footsteps halting, Rias tilted her head back to look upward. Then stillness took hold while her gaze locked on their figures above.

She exhaled slowly. What a daunting sight

With arms folded, Natasha eyed the huge building, face steady. The weight of the moment hung quiet as she took it all in. Stillness settled around her like dust after wind.

"It’s supposed to be," she replied simply.

Fine work done," Syra murmured under her breath.

For once, even Leon stopped moving. His golden gaze moved slowly across the carved lines. Pride showed clearly. Yet underneath sat something softer - a calm kind of joy, like the sight warmed him all over again.

Into the room moved Commander Black.

The sound of his thick boots bounced off the walls while he moved toward the huge doors.

He reached out without stopping, gripping the huge handles with both palms.

A hush passed through the room just then.

Then he pushed.

Slowly, the doors slid open. Movement came at a crawl.

A low, grating sound came from the hinges when the massive frame started to move.

A low rumble filled the room, as if old bones were shifting beneath stone.

Light spilled outward.

Bright.

Sudden.

A flash hit, catching Leon off guard, his gaze tightening along with everyone else’s. From the newly revealed opening came brightness, rushing forward much like water when stone gives way, overtaking the hallway’s deep corners where darkness once held still.

A breath slipped through the air just past Leon’s shoulder. Quiet, but close enough to notice.

That’s all then, whispered a quiet voice.

Silence came from Leon. A touch of squint pulled at his gold-colored eyes while light poured in. Reflections rode along his gaze - still, quiet - not stirred by what flashed before him.

Light poured into the space, spilling across their skin. It moved without warning, filling corners they had ignored.

Then -

They stepped inside.

From nowhere, a hush came after the step - rippling through the giant room like something breathing just below silence.

A great stillness waited inside the throne chamber, wide as any temple ever built. Space stretched out ahead, filled with quiet dominance.

A silence settled. Not a word was said.

Not even the toughest could shake off that heavy stillness pressing inside.

The chamber was enormous.

Pillars rose tall on either side of the room, one after another, built from dark marble that shimmered just a bit under sun rays. Gold threads wound through the rock, sudden as still flames, flashing when shadows shifted nearby.

Up above, sunlight pushed through the glass, pouring wide pools of light onto the stone below. Towering arches framed each window, their height making anyone passing under seem narrow by comparison.

One soldier murmured the words like a secret meant only for the wind.

A thick ceremonial rug lay across the surface, stitched with symbols tied to Nagarath’s rulers. Threads formed patterns that spoke of old authority. The design spread wide, filling most of the space beneath. Cloth bore marks once reserved for high rituals. Each corner echoed traditions long kept within stone halls.

Floating just above the floor, the seven-headed golden naga spanned the space, coils winding slow through the air. Not carved but woven - each segment held together by thin strands of bright metal thread. From its back sprang seven faces, lifted high where light caught their open jaws. Positioned close to the middle, they watched forward, unmoving. Sharp teeth showed clearly, fixed in silent warning. The creature did not breathe, yet seemed awake. Behind it, the seat stood raised, untouched by shadow.

A hush slipped out from Ronan. He exhaled without sound, just air leaving slow.

"They built this to remind everyone who rules here," he said softly.

His eyes wandered the room, taking in each piece one at a time. Not fast. Never rushing.

From pillar to pillar, golden lamps stood in a quiet row, each flame swaying just slightly despite the calm. Shadows stretched and curled across the stone as light trembled - like breath held too long. The room seemed to watch, shaped by movement that wasn’t there.

Floating overhead, glass lights dangled from the tall roof, each tiny piece grabbing rays from the sun. These glimmers danced through the room, much like pieces of still star maps caught midair.

A hush settled, broken just by the soft snap of flames. Somewhere far off, footfalls whispered against smooth rock.

There, near the back of the room -

A wooden stage rested there, lifted above the ground.

A flight of broad marble stairs rose ahead, one after another shaped from pale, even stone standing out against the deeper tones beneath. The light caught each level edge, drawing the eye up where the lighter rock met shadowed ground.

Above the stage sat the royal seat.

The throne of Nagarath.

Massive.

Majestic.

Smooth black steel meets golden streaks. A shine runs through the dark frame. Light bounces off sharp edges. Gold traces thin paths across heavy surfaces. Weight sits balanced with gleam.

Above the seat, the backrest climbed tall, formed like a lotus opening wide, its edges sweeping out like open wings. Wrapped along the throne’s lower frame and sides, naga serpents twisted in stone, bodies flowing smoothly as though standing watch. Light danced across each scale, cut so finely that even small shifts made them shimmer.

Sunlight bounced off their eyes of stone, making them sparkle.

Far down in the seat’s face, a crowd of uncommon stones sat - sapphires, then rubies, followed by emeralds - each one grabbing sunlight from the distant windows, tossing broken pieces of hue through the room. Blue next. Red after that. Green last. Tiny bursts of tint leapt along the cold marble ground and up the long rock columns, almost like hushed signs of bloodline.

It wasn’t just a thron.

It felt... ancient.

Like something meant to remind anyone who looked at it exactly where power sat.

For a moment— No one spoke.